


I Can Feel The Soil Falling Over My Head

by Auggusst



Series: Heart and Mind [5]
Category: Captain America (Movies), Iron Man (Movies), Marvel Cinematic Universe, The Avengers (Marvel Movies)
Genre: Alpha/Beta/Omega Dynamics, Angst, Betrayal, Civil War, Emotional Hurt, Hospitalization, Injury Recovery, James "Rhodey" Rhodes is a Good Bro, M/M, Mating Bond, Mpreg, Non-Traditional Alpha/Beta/Omega Dynamics, Omegaverse, Post-Captain America: Civil War (Movie), Pregnant Tony Stark, Separations, supportive Rhodey
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-04-06
Updated: 2020-04-06
Packaged: 2021-02-23 02:16:29
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,426
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23504134
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Auggusst/pseuds/Auggusst
Summary: When Tony gets back from Siberia, he has to contend not only with his injuries, and the fact that his bond mate Steve and him have split ways, but with another surprise: Turns out, he's carrying Steve's child. Tony decides to keep it, and although the road ahead seems impossible, his best friend Rhodey will be there to support him.
Relationships: Steve Rogers/Tony Stark
Series: Heart and Mind [5]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1670740
Comments: 27
Kudos: 306





	I Can Feel The Soil Falling Over My Head

**Author's Note:**

> Oh lord we in it now!!! I honestly meant to write some more early stuff before this, but I got way too excited. There's a pretty huge gap between the start of the series and here, but don't worry, over time those gaps will be filled, like in my other series. It's just too much fun to write out of order and figure things out where they lay after! 
> 
> Now, I do want to make clear that, obviously, judging by this fic, Heart and Mind is going to be more serious, a little more adult, than The Soldier And The Scientist. Naturally I'll be tagging things properly as they come along, but the angst in this series is going to be a lot stronger than in the other one. There's going to be fluff too, of course, but don't be surprised if a lot of fics in this series make you cry!

His body hurt. _Everything_ hurt. The world was kind of fuzzy, drowsy and blurred in a way that told him he was medicated. He was laying in a bed, he knew, could feel, and though it took a few minutes, he remembered what happened, and where he was. He was back at the compound, in the medical bay, after one of the most painful flights of his life.

After lying on the cold, concrete floor of the Siberian facility for ten or so minutes, his breathing too shallow to function and the world swimming from the realization of it all, Tony managed to pick himself up, reroute his suit’s power enough to get FRIDAY to send a replacement suit. He’d passed out somewhere on the automated return flight, regained consciousness long enough to give the medical personnel a quick rundown of what happened, before it became overwhelming, and he was out again.

Now he was clearly treated already. His chest hurt, pretty bad, and so did his head and his left arm, but none of that compared to the heavy, drowning emotional pain he felt, the deep ache of loneliness that had set in moments after Steve walked away.

He walked away. He walked away from Tony, from the Avengers, from everything they had built. He’d pummeled Tony into dust, metaphorically, and didn’t spare a second glance to the pieces as he left. Out of all the things Tony expected, that certainly wasn’t one of them. He never thought Steve could be capable of hurting him like that, of leaving him high and dry. They were _bonded_ for fuck’s sake. Steve had made a promise, had sunk his teeth in Tony’s neck and tied them together forever, had let Tony do the same to him. Well, Tony thought they’d have forever. Apparently forever was too long for Steve. Apparently forever wasn’t worth the trouble. But he had promised it anyway. He shouldn’t be able to take it away, _couldn’t_ take it away, truly. Bonds were for life, so they said. Tony had heard a few stories of bonded pairs being estranged over the years though, of things going south, but those never ended well. The heartbreak and the sickness were too much for most. Normally people died.

And now he and Steve were estranged. Tony knew there was no coming back from this, not for a long time. He’d been cut too deep, and they’d both gone too far. What would happen now? Would they end up like those couples in stories, some sad statistic? Would there be a shitty documentary on their failed relationship? Would he survive it? He tried not to think about the implications of any of it now, about what would happen in the future.

The brunet took a deep breath, felt his chest constrict a little with the motion.

Tony was struggling to keep his eyes from drooping as he tried to take in his surroundings in the hospital room. The bed was warm and soft, and familiar. Naturally he’d been here before, more than a handful of times actually. But in those times, Steve was at his side, would be smiling down at him right now or looking relieved or even a little annoyed, depending on what had happened. Now though, he was alone. That stung, _a lot_. Tony swallowed hard—his mouth felt dry—and he blinked away the blurriness in favor of finding the call button to his left. When he raised his arm, he found it to be in a sling though. He didn’t remember breaking it, but…oh, that’s right. That pain was courtesy of the fight in Berlin, before things had truly hit the fan. The weight on his chest though, the compression which told him he was bandaged, that had to be from Siberia. It had to be from Steve’s shield, from his lover, his _mate_ , driving the cold metal into his suit, breaking what was left of their love into brittle pieces. He hoped there was just bruising. He really didn’t need any fractures or breaks. It was enough that his head felt like it was splitting, and his heart.

“Oh… _ow_ ,” Tony muttered, turning on the bed to use his other hand. The button made a little _click_ sound as he pressed it.

Tony slumped back against the sheets, rested his eyes until he could hear, and then smell, the nurse coming. She’d been his nurse before. She was a former SHIELD agent, and a Beta, someone he’d brought onto the Stark Industries payroll alongside Maria Hill over a year ago. Nurse Berkley, or Celene (they’d seen each other enough times to be on a first name basis) was younger than him, late thirties, with a kind face and kinder heart. Tony didn’t know what on earth possessed her to want to work for, and care for, the lot of them, but she seemed to enjoy her job. She wanted to do her part, Tony supposed. She was always up for joining the quick response teams, for travelling halfway across the world to help in a crisis. She held the title of nurse, but honestly, bounced around between medical roles, with the exception of surgeon. She was smart, and kind, and devoted, and Tony really liked her. It certainly helped that she held a soft spot for the team.

Tony wasn’t ashamed to admit some relief at seeing her face. She didn’t seem particularly happy, more worried than anything, and the tiny, tired smile that settled on Tony’s face when he saw her disappeared.

Nurse Celene drummed her fingers on the electronic tablet in her hands anxiously.

“I see you finally woke up. How are you feeling, Tony?” she asked, voice soft.

“Mmuh,” the brunet replied, trying to regain control of his voice. He still felt pretty out of it; they must have given him the good stuff. Tony cleared his throat, took a breath. “What’s the damage?” he asked. His voice came out a little gravelly.

“Well,” the woman began. “Not that much worse than usual, but could be better. Your left elbow is sprained, and should heal up in a few weeks if you take it easy. You might have a concussion. We’re going to monitor that over the next few days to be sure. There are a few minor cuts, nothing that required stitches thankfully. Most notable is the damage to your chest. There’s some extensive bruising, which is going to take a long time to fade. That includes one of your ribs. Luckily, no fractures.”

Yup. Tony had suspected as much. He grimaced. “Great,” he replied, though the tone was as miserable as he felt.

Celene didn’t seem finished though. Her mouth opened, and closed again, and that made Tony’s stomach sink like a stone.

He licked his lips. “Is there more?”

She hesitated. “We…we ran some blood tests to check your hormone levels. Your scent was _beyond_ distressed when you arrived. Honestly it’s still off, which is to be expected, considering what you endured, but…”

“But?” Tony prodded. He was aware he sounded kind of shrill, a waver in his voice.

What the hell could she say to him now? Did it have to do with his bond? With the way his neck was on fire and the way his veins felt cold and empty? Did Steve _break_ it? No, that couldn’t have been it. Tony was sure he would die if that ever happened. Being separated was bad enough, even though the thought of seeing Steve right now made him sick. Now that he could think a little more clearly, he was strong enough to feel anger, to feel resentment alongside grief. If Steve had behaved differently, if things had happened differently, he wouldn’t even be in this situation right now.

But Nurse Celene was giving him that look: that look she wore when she wished she didn’t have to speak anymore. Her hazel eyes were filled with pity, with a little fear, and every moment of silence spiked Tony’s heart rate a little more until she spit the words out. His anger dissipated as quickly as it came.

“The blood sample we collected, the levels… Well…They all indicate you’re carrying.”

Tony’s body gave a little jolt. “Uh, what? I’m—what?”

“You’re pregnant,” the woman clarified. “It’s a little hard to tell with how distressed you are, but we estimate you’re roughly seven weeks along. We can do an ultrasound as soon as you’re feeling okay.”

The brunet’s breath hitched, and suddenly the world seemed to be spinning. He tried taking a breath, but it didn’t seem to go all the way in, and the next thing he knew, he was hyperventilating.

Pregnant. Him? He was—? No way. There was no way. They hadn’t been trying, they’d been careful about it for so long. The world was too crazy, too wild. Having a kid was a pipe dream, one they never thought they’d be able to turn into reality, and one he didn’t anticipate coming to fruition now. They were careful. Tony was pretty on top of his contraception too, always made sure he—

Then he thought of the timeline.

Seven weeks? Things _had_ been kind of crazy lately, and maybe he missed a day or two’s worth of medication, but he didn’t think it’d be such a big deal. His body had plenty of problems, and he was getting kind of old anyway, he shouldn’t have been that fertile, but then again, they were _well matched_ , and that always boosted fertility, and jesus _christ_ , he couldn’t believe it. His last heat? The way he’d felt better than ever after it, felt a sense of completion he didn’t know was possible? It made sense now.

He was carrying Steve’s child, his bond mate’s child, and Steve was out there somewhere, probably halfway across the world by now, doing god knows what, but having _left_ with no clear intention of returning. Tony had a little piece of Steve inside him, had for some weeks now, without knowing it. God, the things they’d done, that they’d been through in recent days? Just thinking about it made him sick to his stomach. He was acutely aware of his injuries now, they way his body ached, and what that could all mean. This wasn’t what he wanted, or at least, not how he wanted it. Whatever joy Tony would’ve held at this development, at this revelation a few days ago was gone. He felt miserable, heartbroken, and, despite there being another person in the room, _alone._ It was hard not to think ahead, to think of the future and the possibilities, both good and bad. It was overwhelming, made his fingertips numb and left him paralyzed.

Tony choked on air, felt his eyes sting. He wouldn’t cry now though. He wouldn’t _let_ himself cry. If he started, he wouldn’t stop.

Celene had come to the side of his bed, handed him a glass of water now from the side table. Her scent was soft, like a warm blanket. “You’re alright,” she soothed as he settled his breathing. He was sure she’d been talking the last few moments too, but the blood had rushed too loud in his ears, drowned out everything except his own thoughts. He focused on her words now though, tried to push back the overwhelming tide of emotion.

“Here, take a sip,” he heard her say.

Tony gratefully took the drink. He swallowed a big gulp, his hands shaking around the glass. The kind woman guided the glass, her fingers warm and soothing on top of his, and the brunet managed a breath.

“There we go, that’s better,” the nurse said softly. “Are you okay now?” she asked.

“Am I—? I don’t…I…” Tony couldn’t find the words. He felt exhausted now, moreso than before. “Seven weeks?” he asked, voice a little weak.

“Yes. Would you like to see the chart?”

The brunet nodded, held out a shaky hand. He needed to see it for himself, needed to see the data for it to become a reality. Celene handed him the tablet, and that made it all abundantly clear. He took in the written report of his injuries, the list of prescriptions they’d prepared, as well as the results from his blood testing. There was no denying it. He was pregnant. He dropped the tablet down on the bed, alongside his arm.

Despite himself, Tony let out a little laugh. Life really was a bitch, wasn’t it?

“I can’t imagine how you’re feeling right now. Most people feel overwhelmed when they’re _expecting_ it. When it’s a surprise, well…” Celene paused, let out a little sigh.

Her words only drove Tony further into turmoil. He’d just come to terms with the reality that he was carrying, but now, concern rightfully overshadowed anything else. He’d been hurt, pretty bad, and the distress apparent in his scent was even clear to his own nose. He was sure he’d suffer from Bond Sickness, it was only a matter of time. He loved Steve too much not to. If there was a fetus to worry about now too… He could handle a lot, always had, but something so small and vulnerable, a few weeks old and working hard to come to life? Suddenly he feared the worst.

“Is—is everything okay? With the—with _my—“_

“Everything’s fine, so far. The recent events haven’t had any impact yet.”

“Yet…” Tony echoed. His limbs felt heavy where they lay on the bed.

“There is a chance… I’m going to be blunt with you, Tony. It’s not common for Bond-Estranged Carriers to make it to full term. Most often there are complications. Bond Sickness is a very real threat, especially in a couple like you two, whose compatibility is above average. The emotional strain, combined with the physical symptoms…Unless you have a very involved support network, you could have a miscarriage. There’s a slight chance you could even die. Even with a support network, this pregnancy, should you choose to go through with it, is going to be very difficult. The benefits might outweigh the risks, but that’s not for me to decide.”

Tony tried to take all of that in, but it was a little difficult. He was at a loss for words.

Nurse Celene paused a moment, tried gauging his expression. There was more concern on her face than she liked to show, but she’d known Steve and Tony for a few years now. She’d seen them through several injuries, had an up-close look into the lives of the Avengers. Naturally she didn’t anticipate anything like this happening, didn’t want things to end up like this.

“Is there any chance he could come back?” she asked softly. She didn’t have to say Steve’s name for Tony to understand.

Tony shook his head. “He…no. He’s—he’s a fugitive now, and I don’t even—I don’t know if he even wants to come back.” He wasn’t a fan of the tone of his voice, how small he sounded. He lifted his free hand, brushed it over his face.

“You don’t have to make a decision right now,” Celene replied. “Take some time to rest, to consider it all. Whatever you decide, we’re here for you. Is there anything you need right now?”

It took Tony a moment to respond. There was a lot he needed right now. He needed a do-over, a time machine, a way out. He needed to wake up from this nightmare. He needed to be rid of this pain, to wake up safe and happy and loved. He needed Steve at his side. That was out of the question now though, and maybe for forever.

His throat felt tight, and his heart felt unbelievably heavy. _‘It’s fine,’_ he told himself. _‘You can do this. You’ll be okay.’_ It was hard to believe. He’d lied to himself before, more times than he could count, but he’d never wanted to believe it so bad. Tony wasn’t sure he could.

He had a question to answer though, tried to focus on that instead. One step at a time. What did he need _right now_?

“Rhodey,” he settled on. “I wanna go to Rhodey’s room.”

“Okay,” the nurse said. “Sit tight, I’ll get a wheelchair.”

“Wait,” Tony said, when the Beta moved to leave the room. “Don’t tell anyone about it. I mean, I know the rest of the staff probably knows but—I don’t want this getting out. At all. If the media gets so much as a sniff of this, or the government, for that matter, there _will_ be consequences. You understand?” There was an unspoken threat in his tone, and he slipped a little into his Alpha voice, which had been somewhat exhausted a few hours ago. His throat was still a little raw from growling, and screaming, and crying. He wasn’t sure how many hours he’d been here, how many hours ago his life was ruined. He didn’t want to ask.

Celene got the message immediately though, and swallowed hard. She’d never been particularly intimidated by Tony, but the weight behind his words were clear. “I understand,” she said, and went to get the wheelchair.

Rhodey was thankfully awake as Celene wheeled Tony into the room. He’d been recovering for a little over a day now, after an initial patch-up in Germany. He asked to be transferred here, would rather be at home with familiar faces than strangers in another country. Tony was glad to see him here, though wished it was under other circumstances. His presence settled Tony immediately, if only for a fraction.

Rhodey was his oldest friend, had always been there for him, even at great cost. It was clear his paralysis was permanent; the damage from the fall in Berlin too much to bear, and it filled Tony with shame. Rhodey deserved better than that, deserved better than to have his life ruined for getting involved in Tony’s.

The airman never seemed to mind though, always insisted on staying at Tony’s side. He’d been there longer than any real family member in Tony’s life, had looked after him and helped him, made him happy and feel safe. The two got along exceptionally well, for two Alphas. There was a time, shortly after meeting, that Tony wondered if they could ever become something more, but no. Both mutually decided, almost instinctually, that they belonged together platonically, that they were brothers.

The brunet was thankful for Rhodey, maybe more than ever, and somewhere underneath all the turmoil, all the fear and the mixed up thoughts in his brain, he began working on a way to fix Rhodey’s problem, to make things better for him. Tony couldn’t fix his own problems, but maybe he could fix his friend’s.

He silenced the inventor in him for the moment though, focused on the conversation at hand. It wouldn’t be a good one. He thought about saying nothing, initially. Maybe it was better to keep all of this to himself, to go at it alone, but he knew that wouldn’t do him any good. Tony needed someone, _anyone_ , to be there for him, and he knew he could count on James Rhodes to do just that.

“Jesus, Tones,” Rhodey sighed when he laid his eyes on Tony.

He did look terrible. He hadn’t caught a glimpse of himself yet, but there were a few bruises around his eye, a band-aid on his brow. His skin was flushed, and he just _looked_ hurt.

The brunet gave an approximation of a smile, waved his free hand dismissively as Celene rolled the wheelchair to the side of Rhodey’s bed.

“Should I stay?” Celene asked.

“No, I’ve got it,” Tony replied. “Thank you. You’ve got an extra birthday gift coming your way this year.”

The woman smiled at Tony, gently laid a reassuring hand on his shoulder, and then left. The room door closed with a soft thud.

Tony and Rhodey exchanged glances for a moment, took inventory of their injuries. “Are you okay?” Rhodes asked. “What happened?”

Tony let out a sharp exhale, leaned back in his wheelchair. “Steve’s gone,” he said. “He’s—he left. He’s not coming back.”

Rhodey blinked in surprise, and his brows gravitated downward. “He _left_ you? Really left you? Your bond—“

“It’s not gone, it’s just… someone else was more important, I guess. It doesn’t matter either way. Ross isn’t gonna let him back in the country unless it’s in cuffs. Him, Sam, Wanda, all of them. I mean, the rest of them are already in captivity but—they’re all fugitives. Criminals, according to Ross.”

“Where is he? What did he _do_ to you?”

Tony shook his head. “I don’t really wanna…I don’t wanna talk about it. It’s…” he exhaled through his nose a few times, tried to quell the tide of emotion sweeping over him. It was truly setting in now, all that had happened. The longer he was awake, the more vivid his memory became, the more blanks were fit into place. The things he’d said, the things _both_ of them had said and done…he felt ashamed. And now? Now…

Somehow, he started to laugh. They were short, bitter, barking laughs, like he always had in times when things were truly insane, when he couldn’t figure out how to carry on.

“Tony?”

“I’m pregnant,” the brunet said, lifting his eyes to meet Rhodey’s. The words still felt strange in his mouth, filled him with fear, but he got them out anyway. He had to.

Rhodey didn’t know how to take that. He stared at Tony, tried to process the words, tried to summon an appropriate response. On top of all the things that had happened, all the trouble they were in and the clearly evident heartbreak Tony was now experiencing, he was—? It had to be a joke. It wasn’t a good one. “You’re…”

“Seven weeks along, or so they tell me,” Tony replied, covering his eyes. He could feel the tears now, fighting to fall. He wouldn’t let them.

For once, even Rhodey couldn’t find the words to make it better. He swallowed hard, let his head fall back on his pillow and looked up at the ceiling. “Fuck…” he sighed.

Tony hummed a little in agreement.

“Are you keeping it or…?”

That got a rise out of Tony. He could feel himself get irritated, his hackles raise a little. Was he keeping it? Was that even a question? How could he _not?_ It was his, and Steve’s. It was a piece of both of them, and while biology and logic dictated that it was just a clump of cells, a natural outcome of copulation, the emotional side of Tony saw it as something more, saw it as proof of their love, even if it had run out. How could he snuff that out, knowing he could never feel it again?

He wondered what the kid would be like. Would they have Steve’s eyes? Deep and blue and beautiful? Or Tony’s brown ones, dark and warm and questioning? Would they have his sharp mouth, or Steve’s tempered words? He wanted to find out. He wanted to know, to see. The path wouldn’t be easy, but when was anything easy in his life? He’d rather take the leap, give it a chance, than to let it all end now. Besides, what did he have left? He had to hold on to this, this last part of Steve that belonged to him. He wouldn’t let it go.

“Of course I’m keeping it,” he snapped, frowning. Rhodey didn’t deserve that heat, that misplaced anger, but it was hard to keep in. He was overwhelmed, incredibly so, but the mere suggestion of terminating this pregnancy was enough to set his hindbrain in motion, to register as a threat. Tony sighed though, reminded himself to stay calm, and lowered his shoulders. “I’m keeping it,” he repeated, softer, but just as firm.

“Tony, I’m not a doctor, but with the way you’re looking, and _feeling_ judging by your scent, do you think that’s the best—“

“This isn’t up for discussion, Rhodey. It’s mine. I—I want it.”

Rhodey sighed. “But think about it: if Steve’s gone, for good, you’re gonna get sick. You’re gonna get so sick it hurts. Do you want to put that strain on you, on your kid? And just think of the media, the shit they’ll say. This is too juicy of a story for them to let go. ‘Captain America breaks bond, leaving heartbroken Carrier Tony Stark to raise their Bastard child alone?’ That’s just the tip of the iceberg. When _Ross_ hears about this, who knows what he’ll do?”

“I’m not afraid of Ross,” Tony replied, determination in his voice. He squared his shoulders. “I’m not afraid of anybody, least of all what the media’s going to say. This is…it’s my choice, and I’ve made it. No one can take that away from me. _No_ one. This is mine, and I’m going to go through with it. I’d really appreciate if you supported me through it.”

Rhodey gave him a look, a mixture of concern and sympathy. He knew, could sense, as he always did, just how important this was, how deeply it affected Tony. And who _wouldn’_ t be affected? Being separated from your mate, quite obviously under disastrous, betrayal-filled circumstances, only to find out you had a baby on the way? It would be enough to drive anyone else insane. He would do his best not to let it push Tony over the edge too.

“Of course I’ll support you,” he replied. “I’m here for you Tones. I just…I want to make sure you’re making the right choice for you.”

“I am,” the brunet said. His tone was self-assured, even if he could hear the fear in his words. “I am. This is…it’ll be good.”

Would it be good? He didn’t know for certain. He hoped though. He hoped that this child, _his_ child, would be something good, a ray of sunshine, of hope, and the trade off for all this destruction, all of the suffering. He needed to believe that.

His friend was content to believe it too. How could he otherwise? He could see how set Tony was on this, how much he needed it. He hoped they were making the right choice. Rhodey took a deep breath, tried to leave his questions for later, and to silence his doubts.

“Okay, man,” Rhodey conceded. “Okay.”

**Author's Note:**

> Thank you so much for reading! Please leave your thoughts in the comments!!!


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